A Different Challenge
by bluecashmere
Summary: Olivia Benson faces the Big C
1. Chapter 1

October. Pink ribbons everywhere. She thought about this as she showered. They were always talking about how important monthly self breast exams were. When was the last time she had checked? Did it matter? It couldn't happen to her. But, slowly she reached up to touch her right breast. Holding her right arm over her head she tried to remember the numerous pictures of how to do this correctly. Everything felt fine so she moved on to the left. There she felt it. It felt like a grape, where there shouldn't be a grape. Her stomach clenched involuntarily. Panic. It couldn't be. She started to feel dizzy. Who had the bright idea of recommending women do this while standing in a slippery shower?

Calm down. It's probably nothing. Calm down. Turn off the water. Sit on the edge of the tub. Calm down. Do not be a drama queen. It's probably nothing.

All attempts to think of anything else failed. Work would help. It would give her something else to think about. Was it wrong to hope that someone had been raped so that she could have something else to focus on?

She arrived at work to find nothing buy paperwork on her desk. Well, that's something.

She made it until 10:30 am, before the panic overtook her again. She went to Cragen, told him she wasn't feeling well and needed to go home. She needed to get this checked out. She needed to know, TODAY, that this was nothing. She needed to know NOW.

Back at her apartment, she put in a call to her doctor. They could get her in to see a nurse practitioner at two o'clock.

Relax. It's nothing.

"I found a lump." She actually said it out loud.

"Well, take a deep breath. Eighty-five percent of these things turn out to be nothing." the nurse practitioner explained. "Now lie back and I'll do an exam."

Maybe she wouldn't find anything. Maybe she had imagined it. How embarrassing.

But she lingered in the same place on her left breast. "It's probably just a cyst, could be inflamed. The skin feels a little warm." She smiled reassuringly. I want you to make an appointment for a mammogram just to be on the safe side. But I don't think there's anything to worry about.

Ah, a reprieve. No, not a reprieve. That would imply that this was just a delay. But the medical professional had told her not to worry. So, it wasn't a reprieve. But it wasn't an "all clear" either. She called from the waiting room to schedule the mammogram, thinking they could do it today. They couldn't see her until January. Well, that was another sign not to worry. If the nurse practitioner thought for a moment that this was serious she probably would have gotten her an appointment right away.

She learned over the next three months how to not think about it. But that word "reprieve" kept creeping into her head.

She had never had a mammogram before, and felt a little guilty about it. She was well over the age of 40, and should probably done this already. And she felt a little nervous; she didn't know what to expect. But the whole procedure went off without a hitch. She asked the technician if she had seen anything, not realizing that she wasn't allowed to say anything.

"No, nothing jumps out at me."

So that's it. I've just been being silly, stressing out over nothing, she thought.

But, a week later, there was the message in her voice mail. "Hello, Ms. Benson. I'm calling from the woman's health center. The radiologist has reviewed your file and would like you to come in for a few additional images."


	2. Chapter 2

Friday, January 10, 2014

The first mammogram had been routine. The second one was not. She was called into the imaging room over and over again. And this time it hurt. No one would tell her anything, just that they needed to make certain they had very clear pictures. She was finally pulled aside and told that they needed to do an ultrasound. She was taken to a different waiting room. She was alone. The magazines were different here. No _People_, no _Oprah_. But there was a copy of _WebMD_. She wondered if this was there idea of easing her into the idea of cancer.

She had always hoped to have an ultrasound, but not on her breasts. She had accepted a few years ago that the hope of pregnancy was gone. She was simply too old.

She was finally called into the exam room. After lying on the table, she decided to just close her eyes and let this happen. None of it really seemed real.

But it was real.

"Ms. Benson, we would like you to follow up with a breast specialist and schedule a biopsy."

She felt her breath leave her.

"This is probably nothing, but we like to err on the side of caution."

So, still no answers. More phone calls, more appointments. She met with the breast surgeon the following Monday. She liked her. She found her very matter of fact and reassuring. The biopsy was scheduled for the following day.

Alone. She was starting to feel very alone. She didn't have anyone to talk to about what was going on. Until now she had managed to work all of her appointments into breaks at work. She felt like she was being herself on the job, but she wasn't sure. Sometimes she wondered if her coworkers knew something was up. But she couldn't worry about that now. She had to figure out how to get the following afternoon off from work without raising anyone's suspicions.

Arriving back at the 1-6 she knocked on Cragen's door. "Captain?"

"What's up Benson?"

I have an appointment tomorrow afternoon, and need to know if I can take some time off." She held her hand up to her cheek to imply that it was a dentist appointment without actually lying about it.

"Not a problem. Good luck with that." he smirked.

Tuesday, January 14, 2014

Alone, she arrived for her biopsy. The surgeon had indicated that this was a fairly routine procedure. Nothing to be afraid of. She was starting to get used to undressing from the waist up. She was starting to lose all modesty regarding her breasts. But, after lying on the exam table, she did cover herself with the paper "blanket." Once again, she decided to just close her eyes and let this happen.

Sometimes it was easier not to think about what the results would be. She couldn't change anything. Either it was or it wasn't. She was a little tired of not knowing. A little tired of the run-around.

The pain was pretty minimal. She could handle this. She just kept reminding herself that she was strong. She just needed to keep breathing.

"We should have the results in about a week. Your surgeon will call to follow-up."

A Week! I have to wait another week?! She managed to take a deep breath and keep that last response inside. "Thank you." and managed to keep herself from sprinting out of the office.

This didn't feel like law and order. This was chance and chaos

She managed to work a fairly normal week. Although she would occasionally find herself shut down, staring off into space. She still didn't think anyone noticed. She did her job professionally and well. It actually helped to keep her mind off of her personal problem. So she focused on being the best detective she could possibly be.

Tuesday, January 21, 2014

She certainly hadn't forgotten about the biopsy. But when the phone call came she wasn't expecting it.

"Olivia Benson?" the caller asked.

"This is Olivia."

"This is Dr. Mitchell. Olivia, I'd like to have you come in this afternoon to review the results of your biopsy. Do you have any time?"

"Please, can you just tell me?"

"The results are positive for a malignancy."

"Well, that's not what I wanted to hear."

"And that's not what I wanted to have to tell you. But I would really like to sit down with you and go over everything. Please remember, that this is by no means a tragedy. This cancer is treatable and your prognosis is very good. Now that we have the results, we can make plans to get you through this. Would you be able to come by this afternoon?"

"Um, yeah, sure." Having heard the word "cancer" from a doctor's mouth for the first time made her zone out for just a second. Breathe. "Yes. What time?"

"Would four o'clock work?"

"Um, yeah." Her mind started reeling to try to figure out how to leave work early. She really didn't want to lie.

"And Olivia?"

"Yeah?"

"In my experience, it can be very helpful if you bring someone with you. I'm going to be throwing a lot of information at you. It helps to have someone to help you remember everything, and you might want some support."

"Um, what?" She didn't have anyone to confide in at this level. She started to feel a little panic stir in her stomach. "I mean, I'm not sure. Um, I'll be there at four."

"Thanks, I'll see you then." The doctor disconnected the call.

Who? Who? Who? This is ridiculous. How can a grown woman have absolutely no one to confide in. She had always prided herself on her independence. And now it had come back to bite her in the ass. A minute ago she was just alone. Now she was alone and had cancer.


	3. Chapter 3

After receiving the phone call from her doctor, she looked up and noticed she wasn't completely alone. Her coworkers were looking on. She made a beeline for the bathroom. She needed a few minutes to collect herself and plan her next move. This wouldn't be a secret for much longer. She didn't yet know what was going to happen in detail, but she knew that people were going to find out. Why did she feel shame? This wasn't her fault. She hadn't done this to herself. Her emotions felt like they were assaulting her from a million different directions.

Okay. First, she needed to leave work and go to the doctor's appointment. She didn't have an active case at the moment, just paperwork. Nick could finish it up. He might resent it, but he'd get over it. So, step one, just take some personal time. She had plenty of paid leave banked. Today is Tuesday. She could just take the rest of the week. Just a few days to decide how to handle everything.

She splashed some water on her face, took a deep breath and headed for Cragen's office.

"Captain," Olivia said while knocking on the door frame, "got a minute?"

"Sure, come on in." He waved her towards him.

She took the time to close the door, took a deep breath and sat down across the desk from him. She knew that all she had to do was ask for some personal time. He'd understand. He wouldn't pry. They were both shocked when these words came out of her mouth:

"I have cancer."

There was an awkward pause, neither of them knowing who should speak next or what to say. But somehow, saying the words out loud for the first time gave her the courage to go on.

"It's breast cancer. I just found out."

Using the word "breast" in front of most men would have made her uncomfortable. But Cragen had seen and heard it all. She somehow knew that word wouldn't take him by surprise. Just the C word.

"Cancer?" he asked

"Yep. You're actually the first person I've told."

"Olivia, I'm so sorry."

"I don't know a lot yet. I'm seeing my doctor this afternoon to learn more about the details. I mean, I don't know anything about this. I don't know how it's going to affect my job." She started to feel a little choked-up now, but she seemed to be keeping it together.

"I'd like to take a few days to try to figure all of this out."

"No problem, take all the time you need. But would you please keep me in the loop, not as your boss, but as your friend?"

"You bet."

"What do you want me to tell the others?" he asked

She paused for a moment. She hadn't thought this far through. Actually, she hadn't even thought that she was going to tell Cragen. But, having told one person, she suddenly didn't want it to be a secret. She didn't want to feel shame about something she shouldn't be ashamed of.

"I know this sounds crazy. But could you tell them? I mean, they're going to find out eventually. And I don't want to have to make some big announcement or leak it into the grapevine."

"Are you sure"

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"I'll take care of it then." He stood up and came around the desk as she got up to leave.

"I'll give you a call tomorrow with an update." she said in a very business-like manner. But Cragen had other plans and pulled her into a fatherly embrace.

"We're all going to have your back, you know."

"Yeah, I know." She held onto him a few seconds longer, while she quelled the tears that she felt building up inside of her. She'd cry later. Right now, she needed to stay strong and level-headed. She could cry tonight, when she was alone.

Telling Cragen hadn't been planned but she knew she had done the right thing. Unburdening to him had actually made her feel lighter, and a little stronger. It gave her the strength to move on to step two: who could she possibly ask to go to her appointment with her? But it was suddenly very clear.

It couldn't hurt to ask. She was always very busy and might not have the time. It was also very last-minute. But, if she did have the time, Melinda Warner was the perfect choice. She was an M.D. She would understand all of the medical lingo and be able to interpret it for her. And Olivia felt like she was more than just a coworker, but also a friend.

"Olivia, please don't tell me you have a body on the way in here." Dr. Warner said without looking up.

"No. Swamped huh?"

"Actually, I'm just finishing up here. It's a once in a blue moon moment when I'm going to get home early. I'm thinking a glass of wine, maybe a bubble bath..." Dr. Warner stared dreamily off into space.

Olivia couldn't bring herself to rain on this parade, and quickly tried to think of an excuse to make a prompt exit. She could just go to the appointment by herself. Maybe she could take a tape recorder. That should please the doctor, and it would give her more time to figure things out.

"Olivia? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, fine. I, um, just wanted to talk. It's really not important. It can wait." Olivia said.

"Sit down. Talk." Melinda said, knowing that Olivia wouldn't have shown up in her office just to chit-chat. "Out with it."

"Oh Melinda. I just didn't know where else to go."

"What is it? You can tell me."

Olivia braced herself for her second confession of the day. "I found a lump." She looked at the doctor knowing that Melinda would understand what she was talking about.

"You know that you need to get that checked out right away. But it could just be a cyst. You want me to take a look?"

"I did. I mean, I did get it checked out. It's cancer Melinda." And for the first time since the diagnosis, Olivia cried just a little bit."

"Oh honey, what can I do?" Melinda came out from behind her desk and took the chair next to Olivia. "What does the doctor say? Surgery? Radiation? Whatever it is. You can handle it, and I can help."

"I just got the results of the biopsy about an hour ago. The doctor wants me to come in to go over the results and discuss treatment plans. I really don't know anything yet."

Melinda just nodded her head, so Olivia kept talking. "I have an appointment at four. But she asked if I could bring someone with me. But I don't want to keep you from your evening plans. I really can do this on my own."

"Nonsense. Of course I'll go with you." Melinda stated

"Really?"

"Olivia, you saved my life once. And even if that had never happened I would want to be there to help you though this. And you will get through it. This is just a hurdle, a little bump in the road."

Come on. Let's grab a bite to eat before your appointment. I trust you haven't remembered to eat anything today?"

"No, that sounds good. I'm sorry for getting all weepy on you." Olivia apologized.

"Look, Olivia. Cancer is treatable, but the treatments aren't always easy. I want to help you through this."


	4. Chapter 4

"Dr. Mitchell, this is my friend Dr. Melinda Warner." Olivia made the introductions.

"Good, I'm glad you brought someone with you. I think you'll be thankful you did."

"So, let's get started. I'll just need you to sign this HIPAA addendum to allow me to speak about your medical condition in front of Dr. Warner."

"Okay." Olivia signed the document. "Let's get to it. I need to know everything."

"You're biopsy and ultrasound show a tumor of about 2.5 centimeters. It presents as ER positive and HER2 negative."

"Whoa, you've already gone way over my head."

"It's one of the most common types of breast cancer, and also one of the easiest to treat." the doctor responded.

"So, what do I do first?" Olivia asked

"Surgery."

"Cut 'em both off."

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Although a double mastectomy is an option, it may not be the best option for you. Your tumor is on the small side. Studies show that the survival rate between mastectomy and lumpectomy are relatively the same. And you don't need to make that decision today. I'll make sure you meet with a plastic surgeon before you make the final call."

"When will the surgery be? How long do I have to decide?"

"I'd like to schedule it soon, perhaps in the next couple of weeks."

"How long will I have to be off from work?"

"For a lumpectomy, you would only need to take a week or two off. If you decide to go with a mastectomy you could be out for six to eight weeks.

"And after surgery...?"

"Chemotherapy and radiation."

Olivia took a deep breath. She asked the question every woman asks in this situation in spite of the danger of appearing vain. "Am I going to lose my hair?"

"Yes." The doctor replied. "And it will grow back."

Olivia kind of zoned out at this point. It wasn't just the hair. It was all of these words. Words that she had never associated with herself: tumor, surgery, chemotherapy, radiation. This was really happening. And it seemed like, after waiting weeks and weeks for an answer, suddenly everything was moving too fast.

"Doctor, would you be able to give me a copy of the pathology?" Melinda asked. Maybe she could do her homework and help Olivia make this decision. And if the Melinda needed an education in breast cancer, she was certain the Olivia did.

"I've had my nurse set up some appointments and tests for you over the next few days. In addition to the plastic surgeon, you'll be meeting with a medical oncologist and a radiation oncologist. We'll work as a team to help get you through this. We've also scheduled you for a bone scan, a cat scan, an MRI, and a chest x-ray."

"What are these tests for?"

"They're standard procedure. We'll be looking for any evidence of metastasis."

Olivia looked at Melinda "They need to find out if the cancer has spread."

"I know this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know that your prognosis is very good. The five-year survival rate for your type of cancer is over 85 percent. And while this all seems very daunting right now, we'll walk you through it one step at a time."

Later that evening Olivia stood in her bathroom at stared at her breasts in the mirror. She had always liked the girls. And men seemed to approve of them too. No matter what she did, she was going to be disfigured. They were going to cut off part of her body. What man would want her after that? She had a ton of appointments over the next few days, and a huge decision to make. But tonight, she was going to curl up in bed, feel sorry for herself, and let herself have the big cry that had been growing inside her since the diagnosis.


	5. Chapter 5

Wednesday, January 15, 2014

The next few days of Olivia Benson's life turned out to be a crash course on how to be a patient. Not just a patient, but a "patient" patient. The schedule of tests and appointments was overwhelming, but there was still a lot of waiting around.

The bone scan and x-ray checked off the list, she now found herself in yet another waiting room. She flipped through a surprisingly current issue of _People_ magazine, and tried to curtail her propensity to profile every human being within a ten-yard radius. She did notice, however, that she seemed to be the only person who was there by herself. She managed to make her sigh inaudible, as she, once again, questioned the decisions that she had made in her life. Should she have pursued a serious relationship instead of her career? Had she missed the boat? Should she have settled?

No. This is ridiculous she argued with herself. Indulging in "what-if's" wasn't going to help her. What's that thing people are always saying? "It is what it is." This is where she was, and, somehow, she was going to have to just deal with it.

When she had arrived at her appointment with the medical oncologist, she realized that she was getting into the swing of things when she rattled off her name and birth date to the receptionist without having to be asked. This was the only male doctor on her "team," and she wasn't sure how she was going to feel having him examine her for the first time. She had always preferred female doctors.

She needn't have worried. Dr. Renaldi had an air about him that made her feel instantly at ease. She couldn't put her finger on it, but he made her feel safe. He was young, maybe even younger than her. But it was like, he had seen this before, and he knew what to do about it, and everything really was going to be just fine. She hoped that's how the victims that she dealt with in her job felt about her.

"I'd like to start your treatments about four weeks after your surgery." he told her. "The current protocol for your type of cancer is four treatments of a combination of two drugs, adriamycin and cytoxin, delivered every two weeks."

"So, that's it? Just four rounds?" she thought that seemed doable.

"Depending on the results of your sentinel node biopsy there are also additional therapies that we may want to consider after that."

"Oh," Olivia's mind was trying to recall what a sentinel node biopsy was. She made a note in her notebook to look it up. "What other treatments?"

"There are other chemotherapy drugs we may want to consider. And the type of cancer you have feeds on the estrogen that is naturally produced in your body. We may want to reduce that amount."

"And, how do you do that?"

"We could give you a drug to suppress your ovaries. The chemotherapy is likely to put you into menopause, but we could medically induce it just to be certain."

Olivia sucked in her breath. Menopause? She had heard that that could happen from chemotherapy, but she hadn't heard anyone mention it to her until just now.

The doctor noticed her hesitation, "That isn't anything we need to decide right now. Let's just take things one step at a time. Okay?"

"Yeah," she let out the breath she didn't realize she had been holding.

"Why don't you lie back on the table, I'll do a quick exam, and get you out of here so you can make it to your next appointment."

Olivia lay back and stared at the ceiling while she was "felt up" yet again. It was all right. She was getting used to it.

The doctor then started examining her right arm.

"I'm sorry, but what are you looking for there?" she inquired.

He grinned at her and motioned for her to sit back up. "Well, I'm sure you realize that the chemotherapy drugs are very toxic. If we administer the drugs through a vein in the arm, there is a greater chance of leakage. And the veins can become less useable as the treatment goes on. I hate to tell you this: but, you don't have great veins."

She laughed a little to herself. Was that an insult?

"So, what can I do about that?"

I'm going to recommend that you consider having a port-o-cath implanted when you have your surgery done. It's a small device that will sit just a couple of inches below your collar bone." He pointed to the spot on her.

"Oh, I have to think about that." Olivia was starting to feel a little light-headed. Another wound? Another scar? Something foreign implanted in her body?

"I'll get you some information on the device and the procedure. It's really much safer for you, and most patients are happy with the decision."

"Okay..." Olivia started scribbling in her notebook again. "So, what's next?"

"I'd like to see you again after your surgery. We want your incision to be almost completely healed before beginning the treatments."

"So, I can go back to work after the surgery?"

"As soon as Dr. Mitchell clears you, absolutely."

"And will I be able to work during chemo?"

"You might. People tolerate the drugs differently. About ten percent of my patients are able to live their lives almost like nothing's going on."

"Well, that sounds promising." she looked hopeful.

"And another ten percent become nearly incapacitated."

"Oh." she acknowledged.

"The rest fall somewhere in between. You can expect fatigue and some nausea. But I do have to tell you, we have some amazing drugs to help with both of those side effects. What do you do for a living, Ms. Benson?"

"I'm an NYPD detective."

"You're a cop, huh?" he looked impressed.

"I work in the Special Victims Unit." she added.

"Well, you may want to limit your time in the field during treatments."

She looked at him a little crestfallen.

"Let's just cross that bridge when we come to it. You've been spending your time keeping the city safe. When you're in treatment, it will be my job to keep you safe. Got it?"

"Yeah, I got it." she smiled. She liked this guy; this was going to work.


	6. Chapter 6

Friday, January 17, 2014

She was maintaining her practiced, cool, calm composure. But she was exhausted. She had been poked, prodded, scanned, and examined. She had undressed from the waist up more times than she could count. She had had so many vials of blood taken she was quite certain there was nothing left to give.

She was a little proud of herself though. She was playing the patient part very well. She smiled graciously when the technicians missed her veins on the first try. She had gulped down the thick barium suspension in preparation for the cat scan without complaint. And she hadn't bitten anyone's head off, at least not yet.

This was the last appointment on the list, the plastic surgeon. She had considered canceling. After meeting with all of her doctors and reading as much information as she could get her hands on, she was leaning toward the lumpectomy. She knew some might argue that only a mastectomy was doing **everything** she could to beat the cancer. But the truth was that even a mastectomy was no guarantee. Her decision wasn't set in stone yet, so she soldiered on through just one more appointment. Besides, she had received a text from Melinda. She was consulting on a case at the attached hospital and they were going to meet up for dinner.

Both women shivered as they exited the medical center into the parking garage. "God, it's freezing." Olivia remarked.

"I hate January." Melinda agreed.

They found the doctor's car and both crawled inside as quickly as possible. Melinda started the car and waited a few minutes for it to heat up. "Are you hungry for anything in particular?" she asked.

"Yeah, actually, I was thinking some Indian food might help warm us up from the inside. Sound good?"

"Definitely." she replied. "Dine-in or take-out?"

"Could we just pick something up and take it back to my place?" Olivia really wanted to get into some comfy clothes and some additional layers.

"Yeah. Do you think you're up to any company tonight?"

"Who are you thinking of?"

"Well I know some of the girls would like to see you."

"The girls? What girls?" Olivia looked suspicious.

"Well Amanda said she misses having another woman in the squad room. And I've spoken with both Casey and Alex and they both said they're free tonight.

"What is this about, Melinda? Some kind of intervention?"

"No, nothing like that. It's just that we've been talking..."

"About me?"

"Yes, about you. I'm sorry. We've been talking. And we'd like to be kind of a support system for you." Melinda knew this wasn't going well.

"You don't have to do that." Olivia realized that, of course, her friends would be talking about her. She had put the news out there.

"Don't have to do it; want to do it." Melinda stated very firmly.

Olivia was truly at a loss for words. She hated to admit that she needed help, but she knew that her present and future circumstances were going to necessitate needing help whether she liked it or not. It probably wasn't a good idea to piss off the people who were trying to be there for her.

After an uncomfortable silence, Olivia finally spoke, "Yeah, call them. We'll have a girls night at my place."

"So the witness actually fell off the stand in the middle of his testimony." Casey was recounting her courtroom adventures from the last week.

The mood in Benson's apartment was light, albeit a little awkward. Everyone was avoiding any mention of cancer, waiting to see if Olivia would bring it up herself.

She didn't. She was trying to follow all of the conversations, but was admittedly a little single-minded, and frankly a little bit tired. She found herself just trying to smile and laugh when appropriate. At least, with the Indian food in her belly, and the number of warm bodies in her tiny apartment, she wasn't cold any more. And just having her friends here, trying to make her feel normal, was all she really needed right now.

Eventually, things wound down. Everyone had had a long week. Melinda, Alex, and Casey started gathering things, readying to leave.

"Amanda, do you want to walk out with us?" Alex asked the blonde.

"Oh, I thought I'd stay and help clean up a little bit." she looked up at Olivia. "Fin and I are on call tonight, and I just have this feeling that by the time I get home and get my key in the door my phone's going to start ringing."

"Sure, Rollins." Olivia nodded. "I'd love the help."

They all said their goodbyes and the two detectives headed into the small kitchen to tackle the stack of dirty dishes.

"You've been kind of quiet tonight." Olivia observed.

"Yeah..."

"Yeah, but..." Olivia quietly pushed.

"I'm just afraid I'm gonna say the wrong thing." Amanda blurted out.

Olivia laughed, "Yeah, me too."

"What do you mean? You're allowed to say anything you want."

"I am?" Olivia looked truly perplexed.

"Well, yeah." Amanda tried to explain, "You're dealing with this...thing. And we all get that. It kinda gives you _carte blanche_."

"I'll have to remember that." Olivia laughed again. "You know, I know this isn't easy for anyone. And I know that everyone sees me as this fiercely independent bi..., I mean person. But I know that I'm going to need some help, some support over the next few months. And, well, it really means a lot to me that all of you are going out of your way to be there for me. I'm just afraid the bitchy side will get the better of me and I'll piss one of you off." she added.

"You know, I was thinking," Amanda was struggling to put her thoughts in order, "I'm a good listener. What if I could be the person, the friend, you turn to when you just want to whine, or cry, or scream, or complain, or whatever. I could listen, and promise to never, ever, judge you for it. Okay, I'm rambling now, but you could say anything to me, and I could still never see you as anything but strong, independent Olivia Benson. But, of course, you'd have to do something for me."

"And what would that be?"

"You'd have to promise to forgive me every time I put my foot in my mouth. And I can assure you – it will happen."

Olivia smiled, "It's a deal."


	7. Chapter 7

Monday, January 27

Olivia had arrived at the hospital for her surgery at six o'clock that morning. She had taken a cab, still insistent on doing this on her own as much as possible. All of the prep work was done. She had been injected with a dye to help locate the sentinel node. An IV was in place that didn't seem to do much but make her have to pee every half hour. Her surgeon had been in to mark the incision area and initial her left breast with a sharpie. The doctor had done it without a moment's hesitation but it had made Olivia feel a little strange, having someone write on her body with a permanent marker. At least the doctor hadn't written "Guilty" across her forehead.

It was now noon. Her surgery had been scheduled for ten o'clock, but had been bumped because the OR had been needed for a traffic accident. She had read every magazine she could get her hands on, and now she was just bored. But she was also tense. The delay was giving her too much time to think.

She was playing the part of the confident breast cancer patient. All of her doctors and friends told her how great her prognosis was. She wanted to believe them. But, truthfully, she was afraid she was going to die. And she was afraid to admit that to anyone. Sure, this might just be a bump in the road, but it was a pretty big damn bump.

Ever since the diagnosis, Olivia had felt cold. She remembered going in for the MRI of her breasts when she had been visibly shaking. The nurses and technicians had bundled her in blankets that had been warmed in some kind of oven. It had been heavenly. She had heard people complain about MRIs, but she had found the experience oddly comforting; laying on her stomach, wrapped up in warm blankets, and then slid into a tube feet first. She had actually fallen asleep. She wondered if they had those heated blankets here. She was afraid she was going to start shivering again.

As she tried to talk herself into pressing the button for the nurse a familiar face appeared in the doorway. It was Alex Cabot.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Olivia couldn't actually keep the smile off her face as she tried to glare at the ADA.

"I came expecting to find you in recovery. I thought an Olivia coming out of anesthesia would be less likely to bite my head off for visiting."

"And instead you get a grumpy Olivia who hasn't had anything to eat or drink in the last 30 hours. Lucky you."

Alex laughed and went to sit by Olivia's bedside. "So, can I keep your grumpy ass company until they get to you?"

"Yeah, I'd like that."

She came awake slowly. There seemed to be a lot of noise all around her. She felt a strange heaviness on her chest, and something tightening on her right arm. She heard a doctor telling another patient that it was all over and everything had gone very well. Something about the sentinel node being positive, they had performed the lymph node dissection, that because of the delay they needed to keep her overnight. Then she realized that it was her doctor speaking to her. She didn't care. She just wanted to sleep.

Tuesday, January 28, 2014

The next time she became aware of her surroundings she knew that she was in a hospital room. She could see out the window that it was dark, but she had no idea what time it was. She felt very heavy, but she wasn't in pain, just uncomfortable, and more thirsty than she had ever been in her entire life. She saw a pitcher and a cup on the bed table but couldn't figure out how to get to it. Her left arm seemed unwilling to reach out to the table, and her right arm was being held hostage by a blood pressure cuff, an IV, and some weird clip thing on her index finger. Looking to her left she saw some kind of remote hanging right by her left hand. Maybe she could turn on the television to help lull herself back to sleep. She pressed the button but the television didn't turn on.

A few minutes later a nurse came in. He asked what she needed before she realized she had actually hit the nurse call button.

"Umm, could you help me get something to drink?" she asked, a little embarrassed.

"Of course, Ms. Benson," he replied filling the cup and helping her drink.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you."

"That's why I'm here, you know."

"What time is it?" Olivia asked.

"It's about three in the morning. Are you feeling any pain?"

"No, not really, just feeling a little weird."

"It's always strange waking up in a hospital after surgery. You just let me know if there's anything I can do to help make it easier. Are you hungry?"

"You can actually get me something to eat at this hour?"

"You bet. This is a 24-7 operation. I'll be back in a few."

After devouring the driest, stalest, and most fantastic turkey sandwich she had ever had in her life, Olivia settled back in her pillows and slept the rest of the night away.

"A nurse will be in to review your after-care instructions with you." Dr. Mitchell explained. "And, I'll see you at your follow-up appointment on Friday. We should be able to remove the drain then."

"Okay, umm, I'm sorry. What drain?" Olivia asked.

"You have a tube coming out just here, under your arm." the doctor pointed to her left arm. "It's to help remove any fluid that collects in the surgical area. The fluid collects in this container." She pulled up a little plastic container that was clipped to her hospital gown.

Olivia maintained her composure, but was, frankly, a little bit grossed out. She hadn't yet gathered her nerve to take stock of all of her new wounds. She wasn't ready to look. Not yet.

Olivia hadn't planned on spending the night in the hospital, so she wasn't quite sure how she was going to get home that morning. But Melinda showed up just as her doctor was signing her discharge papers.

"You ready to get out of here?"

"So ready."

Later that day Olivia awoke in her own bed, in her own home. She heard the television playing softly in the living room. Ordinarily it would have made her uneasy to have someone else hanging out in her apartment. She surprised herself by realizing that it was actually comforting. She knew she was fine. The surgery had only been minimally invasive. But knowing there was someone else there, if she needed them was kind of nice.

She wasn't feeling a lot of pain. Mostly just discomfort. She knew that there had been three incisions. She still wasn't ready to look at them but she reached up with her right hand to feel. She had been expecting large bandages, but there weren't any. Just what felt like little pieces of tape covering the stitches. The first incision was just below, and to the right of her right collar bone. This was where they had placed the port where she would receive the chemotherapy. Below the stitches she could feel a bump where the port actually was.

The second incision was on the outside of her left breast, where the tumor had been removed. The third was under her left arm. This is where they had performed what was called a lymph node dissection. She knew that they only did this procedure if the sentinel node, the lymph node closest to the tumor, was found to be positive. She would have to wait to find out if any of the other nodes had been positive.

She was hungry, and she had to pee. It was time to get out of bed and make some baby steps toward facing the world again.

Entering her living room, she found Alex Cabot sprawled out on her couch.

"It looks like a funeral parlor in here." Olivia blurted out.

"Yeah, I don't think you're coworkers got together on the get-well gifts. There are at least four floral arrangements, two bunches of balloons, and one big stuffed gorilla, all from the 16th precinct." Alex pointed out.

Olivia looked at the gorilla with a grimace, "Gimme." Taking the stuffed animal, Olivia sat down on the couch with a sigh, hugging the gorilla to her chest.

"Can I get anything for you?"

"I'm fine, Alex."

She had expected the I'm fine response. "Olivia, I know you don't want me here. You want to be strong, independent. But I'm staying the night. I'm going to be over-protective, and I'm going to hover. I'm going to make sure you take your pain meds, eat something, and get your rest."

Olivia grinned and rested her chin on the gorilla's head. Alex had gone into lawyer mode and was pacing back and forth across the room. The counselor had prepared an opening argument for her. This was excellent.

"What's happening to you could happen to any of us. It could happen to me. I'm only doing for you what I think I would want you to do for me."

"I hope I never have to return the favor."

The two women smiled at each other. "Wanna order a pizza?" Olivia asked.

A couple of hours later, the two women had made a decent attack on the pizza and Olivia was now stretched out on the couch "resting her eyes."


	8. Chapter 8

Monday, February 10, 2014

Olivia was actually feeling a little giddy about getting to go back to work today, but a little nervous too. She didn't know if people were going to treat her differently. She wasn't thrilled to know that she would be riding a desk for the next few months. But she'd have to make the best of it. Working at a desk would be better than sitting at home all the time.

She was still careful when she showered and dressed not to look. She hadn't looked yet, and she wasn't sure if she would ever be able to confront the scars. She kept her head tilted up and her eyes closed while she dressed.

The recovery from surgery hadn't been what she expected. She was surprised at the lingering aches and pains, and was dismayed to discover how difficult it was to regain all of motion in her left arm. She was doing the prescribed exercises but her progress was far too slow for her taste. She also caught herself sometimes holding her left arm in a strange protective position, her elbow tucked into her side with her hand resting at her shoulder. She hadn't noticed it until Melinda had pointed it out to her. She made a mental note to check herself throughout the day, and keep her arm relaxed.

Fully dressed, all of her scars were hidden. Even the port-o-cath, and the incision to implant it, had been strategically placed to be easily hidden by her clothing. She had replaced her watch with a medical alert bracelet, stating that no sticks or BPs were to be administered to her left arm. She had done her homework on lymphedema and decided not to take any chances. Taking one last look in the mirror, she thought she looked like her regular self.

An hour later Detective Benson was back at the 1-6.

Rollins was the first to greet her, "Olivia, welcome back."

"Thanks."

She sat at her desk and was surprised to not find a mountain of paperwork waiting for her. She figured the others would jump at the chance to have someone fill out their forms for them. Nick wasn't in yet so she decided to check out the tech room and see what cases were currently under investigation. Munch and Fin were already there looking over the pictures and evidence laid out on the screens.

"Hey Liv, welcome back." Fin said.

Munch then started to describe the details of the case they working, looking for her input. This was good. No one was going to make a fuss. It was business as usual.

Back at her desk she saw her partner arrive and shrug off his coat. He turned around and smiled at her, "Hey, welcome back, Liv."

Was he really wearing a pink tie? Amaro was not a pink tie kind of guy. Then she looked around and noticed that they were all wearing pink ties. Some kind of detective she was, she thought. Why hadn't she noticed earlier. Even Cragen was sporting the feminine hue. She shook her head and smiled down at the paperwork in front of her.

Later that morning the captain called her into his office. "How's everthing going so far? You feeling okay?"

"Yeah, it feels really good to be back."

"I've been thinking a lot about the situation, and I want you to know that I don't want you to end up being the department secretary throughout this."

"Oh," she was worried. Was he going to recommend that she transfer to another department? "I was really hoping I could stay with SVU."

"No," he jumped in. "I don't want you to leave. I just want to make certain you are as active as possible on the cases. I'd like to see you as more of a consultant. You can still interview victims and witnesses. You can interrogate perps, observe other interviews. I'd like you to review as many other cases as possible. We need your knowledge and experience. I just can't have one of my best detectives filling out DD5s all day."

She was delighted. "I'd really like that."

"But you're going to need to do some things for me." he looked at her seriously.

"Anything."

"First, when you need to back off, when you need to take some time, you take it. There's no need to worry about your position here. You've proven yourself and you've paid your dues. Your health comes first. You have to make yourself your highest priority right now."

"Okay."

"Second, if you find yourself having down time, I want you studying for the sergeant's exam, in October."

"Excuse me?"

"Hey, we don't know how well you're going to feel over the next few months. I'm hoping that it's going to be smooth sailing. I don't want to over-load you but I don't you want bored either. It's just a little project to fill any empty moments. I don't want to pressure you. I realize it may not happen. But, all health concerns aside, there's no reason why you shouldn't be thinking about the next move in your career. It's time, Olivia. If not this year, then next year."

She hadn't really thought about life after cancer. She hadn't allowed herself to go there yet. She was amazed that Cragen had thought about it. It was his way of telling her that he knew she was going to get through this, and it gave her a sense of confidence she hadn't felt before.

She couldn't help but smile at him. "Yeah, you're right."

A few hours later the ADA showed up for a meeting with Fin and Rollins about a case that had coming to trial. She was surprised when Barba came over, welcomed her back, and asked how she was doing.

"I'm doing all right. It's good to be back at work." she answered. "So, are you part of the pink tie conspiracy as well?" she nodded at his attire.

"No, happy accident." he grinned at her and headed over to Fin.


	9. Chapter 9

Friday, March 7, 2014

The weeks between surgery and chemotherapy passed much too quickly. There were so many horror stories out there about chemo, and Olivia was, understandably, apprehensive. She didn't know how sick she was going to be; she didn't know how tired. She had gone against her usual nature and joined a support group. Casey had found out about it, and she thought it might be helpful to talk to people who understood what she was going through. It turned out to be a god-send. She found herself meeting every Wednesday with eight other women who were in varying stages of their cancer treatment. She had a better idea of what to expect from the chemo. But she also came to learn that it affects everyone a little differently.

Her oncologist had given her a small booklet of prescriptions to fill, mostly anti-nausea medications, but also anti-anxiety, a topical anesthetic, and a blood thinner. The trip to the pharmacy produced a rather large shopping bag of pills and a $280.00 co-pay. With the drugs, and the surgery, and the multiple office visits at $30.00 a pop, this was getting pricey.

Arriving for her first chemotherapy treatment was surreal. There was still a little part of her that couldn't believe this was happening. She had planned her treatments for Friday afternoons, thinking this would give her the weekend to recover. She would have four treatments in total, every other week for eight weeks. She had come alone. Knowing the treatment would take about three hours, she didn't want to bore anyone. Melinda had promised to give her a ride home after.

A nurse called her in to take her vitals and a blood draw. She then found a seat in the chemo room and waited to be hooked up. She didn't look when the nurse pushed the needle through her skin and into the port, but she felt it. Damn, that numbing cream didn't work at all. She took a deep breath and settled back into the recliner with her book. She couldn't really read though. She knew that it would be best if she remained calm. She looked around her at the other chemo patients. There were about four other people with her in this corner of the room. They all seemed nonplussed by what was going on. They clearly weren't newbies.

There was a woman in the corner who caught her attention. She looked almost serene as she sat there, letting the chemo drip into her veins. She was knitting. Obviously, she had been at this a while. A pretty floral scarf covered her head. She looked to be a little younger than Olivia. "First time?" the young woman smiled up at her.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You'll be fine. They're the best here. My name is Kate."

"Nice to meet you. I'm Olivia. What are you making?"

"Socks." she said, holding up the project. "That the great thing about the port-o-cath. It leaves both my hands free to knit. I can't really read during chemo. My head gets to foggy. But this keeps me busy. Do you knit?"

"I, umm, I used to, in college. Haven't even thought about it in years. I never progressed past potholders or scarves though."

"I have some extra needles and yarn in my bag. You wanna give it a go."

"Oh, no, I'm sure I don't remember how." Olivia blushed. She really didn't like doing things in public that she wasn't proficient in.

"It's like riding a bike." Kate started pulling supplies out of her bag. "Here, I'll get you started. It's not like we don't have the time."

Olivia laughed at herself, and went along. It wasn't like she had anything better to do. The actual knitting came back to her quickly, and it really helped pass the time. Before she knew it Kate had finished her treatment and was packing up to leave.

"Oh, don't forget this." Olivia said, winding up the yarn.

"You can hold on to it. Are you going to be here in two weeks?" Kate asked.

"Yeah."

"We'll catch up then." Kate smiled. "You take care, Olivia. It was nice to meet you."

"You too."

Olivia was now alone in her corner of the room, but she didn't mind. The knitting seemed to be incredibly therapeutic, and she didn't even notice that Melinda was standing in front of her.

"What are you doing Detective Benson?" she asked.

"What does it look like I'm doing?" Olivia looked up laughing.

"I didn't know you knew how to knit."

"I actually forgot that I knew. Fortunately, someone reminded me."

One of the nurses came over to check on Olivia's IV. "It looks like you're done here Ms. Benson. Time to kick you out." She pulled over a supply cart and proceeded to remove the needle from the port. "Just keep some pressure on that for a minute, and you'll be good to go."

Melinda pulled a chair up beside her friend "So how are you feeling?"

"Really, I feel okay. Maybe a little light-headed, but that could be from stress. Maybe a little bit foggy, maybe a little bit drunk?"

"Drunk?"

"Well, that's not quite the right feeling but it's as close as I can come."

"Do you want to try to eat something? We could go out, or pick something up on the way to your apartment."

"Yes, let's go out. I want a cheeseburger and french fries."

"Come again?"

"A cheeseburger and french fries."

"Oh, Olivia. Are you sure. Maybe you should go with something, I don't know, a little blander. What if you do get sick?"

Well, if I get sick, maybe I'll create an aversion to cheeseburgers and french fries. That wouldn't be such a bad thing, would it?

The weekend was fairly uneventful. She felt okay. Maybe a little queasy at times, maybe a little more tired than usual, but nothing devastating. She considered texting Amaro to let him know she was available if he needed any help with any of his cases, but, decided against it. Instead she opted to hit the books. If the captain wanted her to take the sergeant's exam in the fall she had no intention of letting him down.


	10. Chapter 10

Monday, March 10, 2014

"Liv, I wasn't sure you'd be here today." Amaro looked genuinely pleased to see her.

Helping herself to a cup of coffee, she replied, "I'm really okay. What have we got?"

"Munch and I responded to a call about a DA on the west side.

"Oh my god." Olivia gasped

"What Liv? Domestic abuse isn't that unusual."

"No, not that. This coffee, did Munch make it?"

"I made it." Rollins called over, looking a little hurt.

"Tastes all right to me." Fin added.

Olivia took another little sip, trying to be polite, but was unable to keep from grimacing. She set it aside thinking she'd have to sneak and make some more once no one was looking.

She probably shouldn't have been surprised when she noticed her energy fading before the end of the day, but she was. Could just be the lack of caffeine, she told herself. Even her own batch of coffee had ended up tasting a lot like what she imagined sewer water would taste like. It was kind of amusing that, at this point, the most annoying side effect from the chemo was a change in taste. She hadn't really expected that.

She continued reviewing the victim statement in front of her, but was having trouble concentrating. She needed a nap. However, she wasn't ready to openly admit that she needed a nap. Her inner dialogue was making fun of her:_ Always have to be the strong one. Never show any weakness. Never ask for help._ She knew that no one here would think any less of her if she snuck up to the crib for an hour. Hell, they'd probably commend her for taking care of herself. Yet, still, she remained in her seat, staring at the incomprehensible words in front of her.

She made it until 5:30 on Monday and gave herself permission to go home. She walked a couple of blocks before hailing a cab to take her the rest of the way. Why did she want people to think the chemo wasn't affecting her. They knew what she was going through. They didn't expect her to be a superhero. Oh, but that was it wasn't it. She still expected herself to be a superhero.

Tuesday, March 11, 2014

By 2:00 Tuesday afternoon, there was no denying that Olivia had hit the wall. The papers on her desk had stuck to her face when Amanda came over and gently woke her up.

"Hey Liv," she said quietly, "I want to show you something."

Embarrassed, Olivia peeled the page from her cheek and shook her head trying to clear the fog. She then slowly followed Amanda up the stairs.

Entering the crib, she noticed the bunks had been rearranged.

"We made a little fort for you up here." Amanda said pointing to the far corner. Police-issue blankets had been hung from the ceiling to create a little room in the corner. Peaking inside she saw a cot and a small refrigerator had been set up.

"This is for me?" she asked incredulous.

"Yeah, you know, a little safe haven. We stocked the fridge with ginger ale and snacks. The flowers are fake. I didn't know if the smell of the real ones would, you know, make you sick."

"This is wonderful. Thank you."

"I picked out the bedding. I got the softest sheets I could find, and a real pillow. Hope it's not to girly."

"It's perfect," Olivia sat down on the edge of the bed. "I don't know how to thank you."

"Why don't you give it a test run."Amanda said, smiling.

"Yeah, I think I will." It really didn't matter how soft the sheets were, Olivia was asleep before her head hit the down of the pillow.

Wednesday, March 12, 2014

Wednesday morning was an entirely different world. When Olivia's alarm clock started screaming at her she didn't even have the strength to turn it off. She wasn't just tired. Exhausted wasn't even the word. She was heavy. She felt like her limbs were sacks of wet sand. She had never felt like this before. Nothing could have prepared her.

She groaned as she slowly rolled her three-ton body over to hit the snooze button. She could sleep a little longer, but just a little. She needed to get up. She needed to take her meds. She knew if she didn't eat something soon she was going to be sick. She hadn't thrown up yet, and she had no intention of starting now. And, she had to pee.

This was ridiculous. If she had a husband she could make him get up and help her. But she didn't. And she needed to put that out of her mind. Thinking like that was pathetic. But, oh, she wished there was someone, anyone there to help her.

Just ten more minutes of sleep, and it would be doable. She could beat this. In just ten more minutes.

When the alarm went off again, Olivia managed to hit the snooze again. She hadn't pulled her arm back off the nightstand, so it was easier this time.

She wouldn't be going into work this morning. And she needed to call the Captain and let him know. If she didn't call, he'd surely send in the cavalry. Maybe she should let them come. No, no, no. This wasn't an emergency; she was just tired. It was to be expected. But she had never imagined it would be like this.

Ten more minutes, and she made it to the bathroom.

Ten more minutes and she managed to take her pills, drink some water, and munch on some crackers.

Ten more minutes and she managed to make the phone call.

And then, she slept.


	11. Chapter 11

Friday, March 21, 2014

The Wednesday after the first chemo had definitely been a low point. She was feeling better by the next day, and even went back to work on Friday. The plan was to work when she felt like she had energy and sleep when she didn't. That was the plan, at least. She was so accustomed to working when she was tired she sometimes missed the signs of fatigue. Her coworkers were becoming used to seeing her head cradled in her arms on her desk. Sometimes, they urged her to go up to the crib and take a nap, but they soon realized that this embarrassed her and just let her be.

She was still apprehensive when she entered the chemo room for her second round of treatment. She knew more about what to expect, and that made it a little easier, but just a little.

Hearing her name she looked over to see the young woman she had met the last time she was here.

"Hey Olivia, I saved you a seat." Kate smiled and gave her a small wink.

Relieved to see a friendly face, Olivia made her way over to the corner, and settled in.

"How goes the knitting?" Kate asked.

"Really well," Olivia replied. "I had no idea something as simple as knitting could, I don't know, help as much as it does."

"Yeah, it's kind of therapeutic and mind-numbing at the same time."

Kate continued with her knitting as the nurse came over to hook up Olivia's IV. She watched as the cocktail began it's slow drip into her veins, but then shook her head and started rooting around in her bag for her own distraction.

"I found a yarn shop only a couple of blocks away from my apartment." Olivia pulled a couple of skeins out, hoping to entice her new friend into a conversation. Olivia questioned people. It's what she did. Well, actually, she usually interrogated them. But she was hoping those skills could translate into a more friendly conversation.

"Oh, those are gorgeous. What are you thinking of making?"

"I didn't really think about that." Olivia frowned. "I just thought they were pretty."

"You could make hats." Kate offered. "You might need them soon."

Without realizing it, Olivia's hand reached up to her hair. "Yeah," she said quietly, "I guess I will."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make light of it." Kate said sheepishly. "It's just that you seem so confident and self-assured..."

"No, no, Kate. It's okay. Wait a minute. You think I seem confident? Me?" Olivia tried to diffuse the situation.

"Well, yeah. I mean, you come in here with your head held high, all by yourself. You barely wince when they stick the needle in. You get here after me so you don't know that I make my sister come with me and hold my hand every single time."

"Oh, well, thanks for saying that, but I can assure you, it's all just an act." Olivia laughed. "That needle hurts like hell, and I'm scared shitless."

Kate looked relieved. "Do you mind if I ask?"

"It's okay," Olivia said, "It's breast cancer. You?"

"Same." Kate replied

"I don't know if this is rude. But do you mind if I ask... I mean... you just look so young." Olivia faltered.

"Oh, I'm 38. It's a little on the young side, but not completely unheard of."

"How many treatments do you have left?" Olivia continued her interrogation, but Kate just shrugged.

Olivia knew she couldn't control the look on her face, and quickly looked down at the project in her hands. She could think of only one reason why Kate wouldn't know exactly how many chemo treatments she had to go through. She knew that the cancer Kate was facing was much more advanced than her own. The doctors would keep treating her until it worked, or it didn't. This wasn't an issue that Olivia had to deal with. Essentially, Olivia was already 'cancer-free.' Her chemotherapy treatments were to catch any small cancer cells that may have broken free and be floating around her body. Kate had not been so lucky. This was the first time throughout this ordeal that she had considered herself 'lucky.'

"I'm sorry." Olivia said quietly.

"It's okay." Kate smiled. "It's just the way it is."


	12. Chapter 12

Saturday, March 22, 2014

Olivia woke up the morning after her second chemotherapy treatment feeling like she was going to be able to get through. She knew what to expect this time around. She knew that if she kept on top of her medication schedule, ate a little something every few hours, and let herself rest, she'd be just fine. Yeah, she was getting to be a regular pro at the chemotherapy thing.

Running her hands through her hair proved her wrong.

So this was it. She thought as she stared at all of the hair her fingers had unknowingly pulled away from her scalp. She shouldn't be surprised. She had known this was going to happen.

She went into her bathroom and brushed her hair. Although it seemed like tons of it was falling out, it didn't look all that different. She knew from the stories in her support group that you could lose about half of your hair before it became really noticeable. She might have a few more days. But did she really want to spend the next few days shedding like a dog all over her apartment, all over the precinct, all over the city?

No. She was going to take control of the situation.

A few hours later, Olivia had gathered her courage and found herself, once again, staring at her reflection in the bathroom mirror. She had put her hair through the wringer over the years. She had cut it, she had colored it. But, good or bad, it had always been her choice. Maybe this wasn't her choice, but, at least, she could choose when.

The clippers she had picked up at Duane Reade felt heavy in her hand. Flipping the switch, she was startled at the power they seemed to possess, and quickly turned them back off. Her heart was beating fast. _It's just hair. It'll grow back. You can do this. _Taking a deep breath, she switched the power back on. She took a deep breath, stared at herself in the mirror, and ran the clippers right across the top of her head from front to back. She felt the hair slip away and fall down her back. Closing her eyes, she took another pass. She couldn't believe she was really doing this.

Once she had started she knew she had to finish the job. Although a comb-over might work at this point, that wasn't really the look she was going for. Bending her head over the sink she kept mowing her head, more by feel than by sight.

When she was certain she had removed every last patch of hair from her head she once again looked in the mirror. She grinned. It wasn't really that bad. There had been that bad perm in the 80s. That had been much worse than this.

Tentatively, she reached up and touched the side of her head. Wow, she thought to herself, I'm bald. Staring at herself she tried to figure out what she felt like. A little light-headed? Sure. A little queasy? Always. Empowered? That seemed like a strong word for something that was supposed to be as insignificant as hair. But she did feel empowered. She felt like, in a small way, she had won this battle.

Reality came crashing back in as she heard a knock at her front door. Any confidence she had a moment ago was replaced by panic. She wasn't ready for anyone to see her like this yet. She needed time to process. She just wasn't ready.

Again she heard a knock at her door and the call of her name.

It was Alex. She hadn't been expecting anyone. But she hadn't checked her phone recently either. Maybe she had missed a call or a text.

Still panicking she called out, "Just a sec,"

Olivia had agreed to give her friends keys to her apartment. She knew they wouldn't use them unless necessary. She trusted them. But she was afraid that Alex might let herself in.

She tore off the hair-covered clothes she was wearing and threw on her bathrobe. Then she carefully wrapped her head in a towel. There. She would look like she had just gotten out of the shower.

"I'm coming. Sorry." she yelled across the apartment as she made her way to the door.

"I'm sorry, Alex. Please, come in." she said as she opened the door to her friend.

"No, I'm sorry. I knew I shouldn't have come over unannounced. I should have called."

"It's all right. It's good to see you." they two made a quick embrace.

"I brought you some food." Alex said holding up a shopping bag.

"Um, you cooked?"

"Of course not." Alex exclaimed, "I ordered. But I did portion everything out into these little plastic containers. You mentioned that you were eating small meals every few hours. I thought this might help. You can keep them in the fridge and just nuke a container whenever you want."

"Oh, that's great. Really. What is it?"

"Well, one of the other DAs has a cousin who runs one of those organic health food stores. But they also cater. There's some... okay, well it's not all immediately recognizable. But it's very healthy. I think there's some tofu something, a lot of green veggies. It's all supposed to be really good."

Olivia peaked into one of the containers and tried not to scrunch up her nose.

"Promise me you'll at least try it."

"I promise. Just maybe not right this minute."

"So, Liv, how are you feeling today." Alex asked, as they both settled onto the stools at the breakfast bar.

"I'm okay, really. It seems like my chemo doesn't really kick in until a couple of days after."

"I was wondering if you might like to do something today. It's so rare for us both to have a day off at the same time. You had mentioned maybe wanting to get your car out on the road. It's a beautiful day. You feel up to it?"

Olivia really needed to convince Alex to leave. She really felt like she needed to be alone. But she didn't want to hurt her feelings. She was trying so hard to be there for her, and she had gone to so much trouble with the food. But Olivia just wasn't ready for the big reveal. Not yet.

"You know, I don't feel quite up to it today. Could we maybe do it next weekend?" she asked hopefully.

"But I thought you said you felt okay."

"I do. But, umm, I just feel like staying in today. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't be sorry. I get it. You want me to stay? Keep you company? I could go out and get some movies."

Olivia hesitated. How do you tell one of your friends that you want them to leave. "I, umm..."

Alex wasn't stupid. It was becoming obvious that Olivia wasn't up to company. "Oh, shoot, I just remembered. I have some briefs I have to drop off with the paralegal. Could I maybe give you a call later this evening?"

"Yeah, that would be great." Olivia let out a breath.

Alex jumped up off the stool and started heading across the apartment. "I'm just going to borrow your bathroom for a sec, and then I'll get out of your hair."

It happened too quickly for Olivia to even respond. Alex was about to see all of her hair, all over the bathroom. It was on the floor and in the sink. She hadn't even begun to clean up the mess. She groaned and laid her towel-covered head over her arms.

She half expected the blond to come running back out of the bathroom, but she didn't. She heard some rustling around, heard the toilet flush, heard the sink running. She turned her head, still resting on her arms to watch for the bathroom door to open. She didn't know how to react.

Alex finally reentered the living room, but didn't really look at her. "Liv, where do you keep your broom and dustpan?"

"Lex, you don't have to..."

"Please... let me."

"Under the kitchen sink," Olivia gave in, still not moving from her defeated position.

Alex grabbed the tools she needed and headed back into the bathroom. Olivia finally forced herself to move over to the couch. Why did this feel so humiliating? She sat cross-legged on the couch and flicked the remote to turn the television on. She didn't even search for anything interesting, just stared at the pictures on the screen.

Alex, finally emerged from the bathroom, the small trash bag from the bathroom container in her hand. She set it down next to the front door and then approached her.

"So, it happened." Alex stated.

"Yeah, we all knew it was inevitable." Olivia agreed.

"It's just hair, Liv. It'll grow back."

"Well that's easy for you to say." Where the hell did that come from? Why in the world would she have said such a thing to Alex?

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it like that." Alex's voice started to crack just a little bit.

"I know you didn't mean it like that. It's just... Everyone keeps saying, 'It's just a little bump in the road, just a little setback, just a little hair.' I gotta tell you: Today it doesn't feel little. Today it feels big."

"No one means to downplay what you're going through. We just don't know what to say." Alex was clearly crying now. But so was Olivia.

"I get that. I know that. I don't know what to say either. I'm just whining."

Alex pulled her into a hug. "Go ahead and whine. I can take it."


End file.
